quattuordecim
by Gustava Moliere
Summary: AU. For her, he came out of nowhere and into her life. For him, love was making him do strange things. Fourteen moments in time and space - drabbles.
1. Defunctorious

Notes: Never thought I'd be participating on one of these prompts for what they're calling in Tumblr, 'Frobin Fortnight.' But I decided to give it a try, so wish me luck.

Plot: He doesn't know when it first started.

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_Defunctorious _(Routine)

The first time it happens it catches him off-guard, because this _is_ Nico Robin of all people. She doesn't _do_ things without _having_ a reason. There _has_ to be one. Otherwise, he's going to wonder where the world has gone to. But he never does asks and she doesn't tell him either. All she does is hum in contempt and snuggle closer to his frame basking in the warmth his body provides.

After that, he loses count. It becomes a routine, a habit he hates to admit that he has grown accustomed to and he deeply loves. It's _his _addiction. Of all people in the crew, it's _him _she chose to look for a lover's embrace. Because that's what they are, right?

The cyborg furrows his brows thoughtfully looking at the woman resting on his chest. Things have definitely changed after that first time _it_ happened. But he still wonders. Even after two years he still wonders if-

A slight touch makes him yelp and he sees a mischievous glint on those calculating brown eyes. "Nico Robin," he muses out loud his innermost thoughts. "Why?"

Why me? Why did you choose me? Are the unsaid questions. Because… He can't help it. His question is raw, helpless and it holds every feeling, every emotion he has had for the past two years. It holds every hope, every dream and he wants to know why she chose him of all people. Her expression turns thoughtful and his blue eyes look at her helplessly. She _isn't_ looking at him and that means that-

A small hand touches his face interrupting from thinking many fears and she smiles a little. "Do you remember what I said back when you first joined? And I quote, '_Until you say yes, I won't let go of the treasure in front of us.'_"

"B-But-! I thought that was a reference to my-!" He stammers and she puts a finger to his lips.

"It has dual meaning."

He blinks. Of all things _this_ wasn't what he expected as an answer. His blue eyes search her brown ones seeing the sincerity reflecting in them and he feels that he's about to tear up. What is it about this woman that turns every belief he has upside down? Why did he ever do to deserve _her _of all people? A lone tear starts to fall, followed by another and another, until he's crying buckets.

Robin simply smiles. They both are healing slowly little by little, but there's one thing she'll never give up and it's _this_. When she said she wasn't going to let go of him, she meant _it._ This man named Franky is her treasure.

And she's _never_ letting him go.

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	2. Capillus

Notes: I can't believe I'm still writing this with the biggest writer's block in the history of my life. But, can you really blame me? I mean this _is_ _**Frobin Fornight.**_Some sacrifices are necessary. This is a sort of prequel to the first prompt. Now, read some Frobin. It's _good _for your soul.

Plot: No matter what he looks like she'd still love him, regardless.

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_Capillus_ (Hair)

Robin glances at the clock with a sigh and simply turns back to reading. It's very rare to see the man this dedicated on getting ready. It's not that she minds, really, it's the constant effort he puts into impressing her that makes her a bit exasperated. She thought she'd made it clear from day one that she liked him.

However, it was most likely that the man hadn't understood this and was oblivious to this fact, which led her to conclude that this was the reason why he was taking so long in the bathroom. The archaeologist stands up, marks the page she's reading from and closes the book. It's time to make things clear to her dear cyborg once and for all.

It doesn't take too long to make her way to the bathroom facilities. A few knocks on the door is enough to make its occupant open the door abruptly and simply splutter. "N-Nico R-Robin, what-"

His rather disheveled hair makes her giggle uncontrollably interrupting whatever he was about to say a flush of embarrassment covering his cheeks. "I, uh, see, you're doing your hair, yes?" She asks, clearing her throat.

Franky shifts nervously not meeting her eyes. "T-That… I mean I wasn't… Well, you see-" He takes a deep breath his shoulders slumping on defeat. "Yes?"

A chuckle of amusement reverberates around the room and he rubs his head sheepishly. This wasn't how she was supposed to find him. It's bad enough that nothing he does fazes her anymore, but to find him like this is even more humiliating. The woman shakes her head in amusement, but he doesn't seem to notice lost on his thoughts.

"Franky?"

"Hmmm?"

"May I be frank?"

He gulps nodding. Whatever she's about to say is about to change everything and he gets prepared for the worse. One of the things he fears the most being her rejection. A small smile appears on her face and he finds himself enthralled. "From the very moment you joined the crew I thought I made very clear I liked you very much, but it seems my message did not reach you."

Her words watch over him and his eyes widen. She likes _him._ Nico Robin likes _**him**_ of all people. Her smile broadens and she grabs him by the lapels of his shirt bringing down his face to her level. "Regardless of what you look like, I shall always like you very much, Franky" she murmurs pecking him softly on the lips.

Her statement makes his heart soar and forget everything else around him succumbing to pure bliss. No matter how he styles his hair, no matter if he modifies his body, this woman will always love him. And for him…

… That's enough.

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	3. Effugium

Notes: This prompt couldn't have more appropriate for this moment than now.

Plot: Whenever she's with him he feels like soaring

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_Effugium_ (Flight)

The first time she meets him is on a train and it isn't one of her best days either. That _day_ is when everything good in her life is being ripped apart and her only option it's to _give __**up.**_That, however, changes in the blink of an eye. He comes, literally, crashing down on her life like a wild card, his blue eyes reflecting a free spirit, an unrestrained force ready to be unleashed.

And he proves to be exactly just that. It's _him_ that tells her that existing _isn't_ a sin. It's the crew that teaches her how to laugh, but out of all of them it's _him_ that teaches her _how_ to _love._ He _show_s her that love isn't just an emotion. It's actually more than that.

Love is an action, ever evolving, ever-changing. Love extend to all spheres, it has different forms. It comes in the form of _Agape_ and_ Eros_ for Franky_, Philia_ for her nakama and _Storge_ for her mother. She also learns that not everything about love can be found on a book, but it can be found within the beating hearts of two people who become one.

'It is love that the little being inside me comes to be,' she muses smiling a little as she rests her hand on her ever growing belly. It's ironic, because this is the last thing she would've dreamed of. Out of all the hatred and the loneliness, love was never expected. And she never thought that it would be _him_ who would be _her_ redemption.

"_We're each other's redemption,"_ she remembers Franky telling her one day. _"It was this crew that healed me, but you, Nico Robin…You became __**my**__ redemption just like I became __**yours.**__ We became truly free when our paths crossed._

Y_ou're the earth. I revolve around you. I'm wild like the ocean and free like the sky. I'm both the ocean and sky personified. Whenever I'm with you…"_

A kick makes her place a hand on her belly interrupting the memory and she feels the man beside her place his small mechanical hand on her belly. His eyes are shining with unshed tears. "Didja feel that?"

She simply nods, feeling a bit teary eyed. This thing, this life and everything, including this little one, is truly a blessing. Life has always a funny way of surprising you and she couldn't have asked for something better than this.

"... _I feel like flying."_

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	4. Telephono revoco

Notes: I have a thing for angst and fluffiness it's not even funny.

Plot: She knows he's a phone call away.

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_Telephono revoco_ (Phone Call)

She's restless. After tossing and turning she can't find her sleep. It isn't her growing belly that bothers her, not really. The little one is fine as far as she is concerned. It's this feeling of loss that's beginning to bother her. She misses _him_. She misses his warmth, his voice, his tenderness and overall every essence that is purely him.

It's irrational for her to feel this way, but that's how she's been feeling nowadays. The archeologist sits on the couch rubbing affectionately the baby bump. A few kicks are the response and she smiles. Their child is as restless as its father. The sound of a Den-den Mushi startles her.

_Purupurupuru. Purupurupuru._

Her brown eyes scan the room looking for the snail until she finds it at last. It's on the far end of the couch and she tiptoes carefully a hand on her belly. 'Who could be calling at this hour?' She muses taking the receiver and answering. "Moshi-moshi?"

"_**Robin?"**_

A small laugh escapes her. It seems she wasn't the only one thinking of the other. "You miss me," it's more of statement that a question.

"_**Miss you!? Onna, I'm going crazy,"**_ exclaims the snail. She smiles unconsciously.

"I also miss you," she admits. In the past, she would've never admitted it. But she isn't _that_ person anymore, things have changed since then and she doesn't regret _them _either.

"I know," his voice reverberates in the room and she turns her heart skipping a beat. It's _him._ He's _here._

"You're here."

"Yeah," he grins rubbing his head sheepishly.

"I-I thought you wouldn't be back until tomorrow." Her hand is trembling with emotion and she trying not to tear up.

The electric blue haired man closes the gap between them taking the receiver away from her trembling hand and caresses her face. "You know I can't _ever_ stay away from you."

A few tears escape her and he wipes them away with his thumb shedding tears himself. "Baka-onna, do ya' know whatcha do to me?" He whispers, his forehead resting against hers. A teary eyed laugh escapes her and he kisses fervently and desperately his tears mingling with hers.

Everything about them it's complicated. Hell, he doesn't even know how they're still working out. But, there's one thing he's sure of. No matter where he goes to, no matter what the weather is.

He can't live _without _her.

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	5. Regnum

Notes: Everyone knows Robin can be such a tease, sometimes.

Plot: She can't help but tease him a little.

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_Regnum_ (Kingdom)

It's a lovely night, at least, for him. The moon is shining, _his_ crazy kids are partying and he's enjoying himself. Most of all, he can't take his eyes off from the lovely sight that Nico Robin is. There's _something_ enchanting, mysterious about that woman and he wants to find out _badly._ It's not just the attraction, it's this _thing_ he can't put a name on _yet_ that wants to prove to her that he can be so much _more._

After goofing around with the kids, he heads to her direction and stands beside her. Silence has never been his forte never _ever._ He's been always the type to have fun and throw caution out the window. A wide grin appears on his face and he decides that now it's a good time to make a conversation.

"Nico Robin," he drawls, enjoying the way her name sounds coming from his lips. "Are you super enjoying yerself?"

She smiles cryptically. "You could say that."

"A book, I take it," he looks at her knowingly.

"A little bit." Her head tilts a little brown eyes studying him and adds as an afterthought, "And also a bit of research."

The cyborg raises an eyebrow. There has to be _something_ going through her mind and it _has_ to do with _him._ No ifs and don'ts. "Oh?"

"You're a very interesting man, Franky. One I can't help but be very fascinated with."

He splutters in embarrassment. "T-That isn't-! _You-!"_

"Fufufufufu," she laughs in amusement.

"You're really incorrigible!"

She saunters past him and looks over shoulder a pleased smiled on her face. "I do well to serve, my king, I do well to serve."

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	6. Nomen

Notes: One of my best drabbles so far.

Plot: He sometimes hears two voices, but it's hers that draws him nearer.

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_Nomen_ (Name)

'There was a battle,' his feverish mind tells him. A very gruesome battle and he's _almost_ one of the fallen. But he _isn't._ Not yet, not really, anyways. It's kind of odd, everything feels like a haze. He can hardly see, but he can hear. There are voices around him.

But there are _two_ in particular that are different from the others. One is gentle like, like the memory of a dream, while the other is bitter and angry. There are two voices and he doesn't know which one to choose.

"_Fram!"_ His head jerks and he instinctively follows after it, but he stops on his tracks. The other voice, that lovely voice from that lovely dream calls him again.

"_**Franky!"**_

"_**Franky!" **_It sounds like a plea, like the fervent prayer of a long-lost pilgrim. It sounds foreign, different from his given name and he feels _torn, _yet so _drawn._ It's feels like longing, like, dare he s_ay it?_ It sounds and feels a lot like love and adoration.

A feeling he doesn't want to let go. "It's like a string," he muses out loud.

"Your name _is_ like a red string of fate," confirms a young familiar voice that makes him jerk in surprise.

"You're me."

"And I'm _you,"_ completes himself for him. "I'm your fear, every hope and every dream you've had for the past thirty-six years. I'm what you _where,_ what you _are_ and what you _will be."_

He starts to quiver with emotion falling to his knees. His younger self looks so, so _young._ Just like, like the time he _was_ nine years old. That means that-

"_Fram!"_

A small hand touches his shoulder in comfort and he looks up. "Don't worry about _him._ _**Go."**_

"But-"

"It's okay," tells him himself smiling. _"Go."_

A few tears escape him and he laughs engulfing him in a hug. Because that's what his nine year old self _would_ tell him. And he's _right._ Everything turns out okay in the end. He meets Tom-san and his foster family and, later on, he meets _them._ But most importantly he meets _her._

"_**Franky!" **_His head looks up in response and he smiles.

"_I'm here."_

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	7. Lyricus

Notes: The first time I heard this song it was Robin that came into mind. This drabble came different from what I expected, but I'm not complaining.

Plot: It was him that let her borrow his heart of a lion to be brave.

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_Lyricus _(Lyrics)

"_You've got the words to change a nation_

_But you're biting your tongue_

_You've spent a life time stuck in silence_

_Afraid you'll say something wrong_

_If no one ever hears it how we gonna learn your song?_

…_You've got a heart as loud as lions_

_So why let your voice be tamed?_

_Maybe we're a little different_

_There's no need to be ashamed_

_You've got the light to fight the shadows_

_So stop hiding it away_

…_If the truth has been forbidden_

_Then we're breaking all the rules…"_

– Read All About It pt. III – Emeli Sandé

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'_It was fire and brimstone, brimstone and fire,' _she starts at last to write. _'There was heaven's punishment upon them. No, it was __**man's punishment**__ for having the knowledge forbidden. __**Man**__ who brought __**chaos and disorder**__ to their realm. They killed scholars, butchered innocents with cannon fire and destroyed their peaceful island on a wink, just to hide from the rest of __**mankind**__ the truth of a lost century.'_

It feels like ages ago since that tragic event happened, but now she's at peace. A smile appears on her face and she continues writing. _'But something happened, something very wrong. A girl of merely eight survived with nothing else than her knowledge, the profession of her forefathers and the forbidden tongue, the key that could be their undoing and lead to their downfall. The gods forbid it, if mankind __**knew**__, then chaos and __**rebellion**__ throughout the united realm would follow. Thus, it was decided that the child was a __**sin**__, a __**demon**__ in human form._

_But all the girl wanted entirely was the true history, the knowledge forbidden. The knowledge her forefathers and predecessors had stained their __**own blood**__ with to find._

_Alas, she was afraid, very afraid. The girl ran and ran, her life was spent running and she spent most of her days in silence. No companionship, just loneliness and the lull of the stormy sea rocking her to sleep. Her journey seemed pointless._

_It wasn't so, however. Fate and Destiny always kept watch on the young archeologist. So, in order to help her they sent the stars to guide her and her not knowing, she followed them until she met a boy with a straw-hat and his crew many years later. They saved her and they taught her __**how**__ to __**laugh**__ again._

_They had many adventures and had fun. But there were also people who didn't __**want**__ her to be happy. They took her away and made her betray the nakama she had grown to love. She was sad and lonely again, but she didn't know there was someone who was as lonely as her._

_It was a cyborg with the heart of a lion. He was a simple man who was in love with sailing the sea on his dream ship. The very same man who told her moments after meeting her that existing wasn't a sin, someone who broke all the rules, just so she could go back to her nakama. But most importantly he was the man that gave her his heart for her to be brave._

_And once you give your heart to an archaeologist, you can't __**have**__ it back._

_Happy Anniversary, Franky._

_Love,_

_Robin.'_

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	8. Spontaneus

Notes: I had too. I did.

Plot: They constantly do things without thinking.

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_Spontaneus _(Spontaneous)

Franky is tired. Nah, he _isn't_ tired, he _feels_ restless. All this pacing around the room isn't helping to calm his nerves. Is Luffy, the always cheerful Luffy going to be okay? Is he going to live? What if he doesn't –

A slight squeeze on his hand interrupts him and he stops on his tracks. His eyes look down to meet brown eyes and he sees an understanding look. He isn't the only one worried about their ball of sunshine that is their captain. She is as worried as he is, even though she doesn't show it like him.

Much to his surprise, she hugs burying her head on his chest. Is she _trying_ to comfort him? Does that mean that she, that him…? He shakes his head trying to get rid of those traitorous thoughts. She hasn't anything about _them_ and neither has he. There are times he wonders when _they_ are going to talk about this _thing_ between them. But he doesn't have the guts to _say __**it.**_

The cyborg simply brushes a few strands from her forehead and kisses the top of her forehead in a rare display of affection. Whatever this is, whatever they have, he's sure that everything will turn out fine. For now, he'll just enjoy this embrace in the middle of a rainy night near the office of their crew's doctor.

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	9. Otium

Notes: Known holidays are entirely cliché. So, I just had write something different, something I know the crew and those two in particular will celebrate every year.

Plot: Today they celebrate the day they meet.

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_Otium _(Holiday)

Every year they celebrate the life and adventures of the Merry Go. October 7 becomes for them a day of remembrance. It's marked with sadness, loss and despair, but for Franky and Robin is also a day of beginnings. Because _that __**day **_was the day their paths cross and fate weaves together a new story, _their_ story, one that becomes very well-known among the Mugiwara no Ichimi.

It starts as a question, but as time progresses it becomes a tradition, captain's orders and all. Everyone will tell their part of the story _always_ reserving the best part for last. Because, according to Luffy, their love story is the best of it all.

"_Shishishishi,"_ they remember him laughing and exclaim his eyes shining in excitement, "_The best part of it all is that it's two villains falling in love!"_

"_Former _villains," he always corrects. Since he and Robin know, otherwise. But their captain never listens and hums sitting on the ground with glee waiting that they tell him the same story. For the crew it's _once_ a year, but for Luffy is every night before he goes to sleep. He laughs at Franky's unorthodox ways of escape, he whoops in joy when he protects her and tells that her existence is not a sin, he grows angry at Spandam's words and he cries at the part when they have to say goodbye to the Merry Go.

He hears it all with childlike wonder, even though he knows he was there. But he enjoys hearing it from them, because they make it seem like a fairy tale. The cyborg simply grins when the boy resting his head on Robin's lap has his eyes dropping and his lady love is simply combing her fingers through their captain's hair telling him the same story. Luffy yawns and blinks sleepily, "Ne, Robin, did the cyborg and the archeologist lived happily ever after?"

Knowing glances are exchanged between and the woman simply smiles, "Yes, yes, they did, indeed, senchou-san."

Another yawn escapes the younger boy and he laughs lightly his eyes closing shut. "I'm _glad."_

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	10. Tempus

Notes: This had to be done.

Plot: A love cook he might be, but he knows what he sees.

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_Tempus_ (Time)

From the very beginning their paths cross Sanji knows for certain it's _meant_ to _**be. **_He doesn't know if the others in the crew have noticed, but if they have they don't say anything and neither does he. It doesn't start like every cliché story. Boy meets girl, girl meets boy. They fall in love, get married and have kids. The End.

No, far from it, it doesn't start _that _way. Their love starts slowly. That's _how_ everything starts. And little by little, he starts to notice that if they were _close_ then, they're closer _now._ He remembers that the first thing he notices when he meets _her _are her dull brown eyes, so broken, so sad and so tired. He remembers that when he first meets _him_ that his eyes are the same as _hers._ And that's when he notices that sooner or later something _will_ happen between the two.

It starts with smiles, glances and small moments that later turn more meaningful. It evolves from little chats to putting a hand of comfort when one of them is down. It changes from doing small favors to bringing each other their favorite beverages. They become so in tune with the other that it becomes painfully obvious.

The others don't seem to notice. At least, that's what he thinks, but if they haven't he won't tell them either, because he rather keep this secret with him. He prefers to become their watcher, their guardian angel of sorts and helper, even though they don't know he _knows._ Because he knows in the end everything will be worth it.

He _knows_ that when they decide to tell their crew it's when the time is right. And when that time comes he'll be smiling like a bloody idiot, because he _knew _he _always _did. That's what will make _worth _it, because he was the one who _saw_ their love story, no one else.

And his words ring true, two years later, when sees Robin rubs her belly subtly and Franky looks at her with a knowing grin. The blonde lets out a chain of smoke and throws the cigarette butt to the ashbin. A grin appears on his face as he puts a plate of dessert in front of Robin and he lets them know.

"Congratulations, it's about _time."_

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	11. Alternus Universum I

Notes: One of my longest drabbles yet and one of my best ones too. A few headcanons I adopted from furanky mixed with my love for art and N.Y. itself.

Plot: He meets his muse on a train.

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_Alternus Universum I_ (Alternate Universe)

"_Art is the ultimate expression of human emotions,"_ he remembers his professor saying. But that's just _it._ He _doesn't_ understand. What does emotions have to do with art? What about inanimate objects? What about ships? What about architecture? Isn't that art too?

But his professor never tells him the answer. He just tells him cryptic words shaking his head in a negative way. _"You need a muse, a human muse, not a mechanical one. You have not __**yet**__ found your human muse, young Francis."_

His name _isn't _Francis, _dammit!_ Francis Cody _doesn't_ exist, not anymore. That boy died when his father abandoned him in the middle of the New York Harbor. But no one listens. They call him Francis when he prefers being called Frankie.

They don't understand _his_ passion for ships either. _Screw_ human anatomy, screw human emotions! Because he can't draw the human structure! But, ships? He's better at drawings ships. Ships _are_ beautiful in the most unique of ways. Ships may not express themselves, but they _talk _to you with their graceful movements in the water. They are majestic-

The train does a screech stopping on a rather brusque halt interrupting his musings. Someone falls into his lap and he simply blinks. "Ya very sorry, amerikanskiy," apologizes the person on his lap in a rather broken English tone.

He simply sputters. "N-No, no, y-you don't h-have anything to apologize f-for."

Frankie simply swallows staring at the younger girl. Yes, a _girl._ A very beautiful girl with captivating dark brown eyes, black hair and, and… He finds himself at loss for words. Words cannot describe her looks, but art can. If this isn't the human muse his professor meant then he doesn't know what else.

"Opyat ya am sorry," she says apologetically, removing herself from his lap.

He waves his hand dismissively. "No harm, no foul. Don't worry about it."

She simply nods and parts to places unknown. He never sees her after that. But when he arrives to his apartment, like a man possessed he starts to draw. He draws like he didn't draw before. He draws people, he draws scenery, he draws everything he can think of, but it isn't enough. He needs to draw _more._

When he presents his portfolio at the end of the semester his professor acclaims him, _"This, __**this**__ is what I __**meant**__, young Francis. At long last, you have __**found **__your human muse."_ A merry laugh escapes the old man and he pats Frankie on the shoulder. _"May __**she**__ keep inspiring you for the rest of your life."_

Those words keep ringing on his mind for a long, long while. And his drawing becomes the expression of his frustrations. What in hell do they _mean!?_ He _found _his human muse! What _more_ can that old geezer want!? The artist throws his pencil and rips the drawing paper frustrated.

One of his hands combs through his electric blue hair and he simply sighs. "A walk, I need a walk," he muses out loud. He lets out the breath he's holding, grabs his keys, his sketch pad and pencil and goes out of his apartment closing the door behind him. Maybe, perhaps, this is what he needs.

He decides to take the Subway instead of a cab, because that's where he found _his_ muse. And if he found her there, then he's certain he can find her again. He doesn't, however. And that makes him a bit dejected. He's a prodigy, a genius, but when it concerns to matters of the heart and the art of talking to girls he's utter rubbish.

Frankie shakes his head and starts to draw. It's better to not dwell on things. He gets lost in the symphony of drawing. Scribble here. Tone there. Draw more firmly. Each time he repeats the process it's like he's writing a stanza, each unique and beautiful in its own.

He forgets the world around him, he forgets that the train has departed yet again and he doesn't even notice the coming and goings of the people. He doesn't even notice that someone has sat beside him. All he cares about, all he's focusing in is in the work of art he's currently engrossed in. Why is he drawing _her_ of all people? He doesn't know.

All he knows is that this is the culmination of everything, an ode to the unknown muse of the train. The ghost of a smile appears on his face and he _swears_ he can hear her talking broken English with that foreign accent of hers. "Hello again, _amerikanskiy."_

The artist almost drops his pencil. That _wasn't_ his imagination, wasn't it? He doesn't dare speak. Hell, he doesn't even dare look to see if it's _her._ He hears a chuckle and she sighs like she was happy.

"I'm very glad to have found you. Ya…"

She trails off. He turns to look at her simply blinking and regains his bearings offering his hand. "My name isn't amerikanskiy, it's Frankie Cody. Yours?"

A beautiful smile blooms on her face and she grabs his hand shaking it with a firm grip. "It's Robin, Robin Nikolayevna Nikonova."

He smiles and she smiles back. His name is Frankie and he thinks he finally met his muse of a lifetime.

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	12. Heros

Notes: No one ever writes this.

Plot: He is her hero.

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_Heros _(Hero)

Franky is Robin's hero. Don't ask her why, but for her he simply _is._ If she were to explain it in words, there are many things she would tell you about him. Franky is her hero, because he saved her. Yes, he saved her from physical harm, but that's not the type of saving she means. That man is her hero, because he _saved_ her from herself.

He is _her_ hero, because when she is down he can brighten up her day. No matter how childish and unorthodox it is, he always manages to make her smile and for that she couldn't be more grateful. The crew makes her feel safe, but it's _him_ that makes her feel loved. He tastes likes cola, but he smells like home when she sleeps safe on his arms.

And each time she looks at him play with the boys, she simply smiles thinking how a good father he'd make for their children. Yes, that man _is_ her hero, because unlike her who hides her feelings, it's him who cries for her every time she tells him of her darkest times. It's him that holds her close when she has nightmares and she doesn't want to bother Nami by waking her up.

If that _isn't _what a hero is, then Robin doesn't know what else they could be. He isn't a hero from divine descent like in those epic tales of yore. He's Franky, _her_ Franky, just your ordinary loving perverted cyborg and she wouldn't have it any other way. Because for her a hero is a person that holds you safe, that makes you feel loved and makes you feel at home.

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R&R


	13. Luce stellare

Notes: Hard to write, but worth it to try.

Plot: He shows her the stars.

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_Luce estellare_ (Starlight)

"_One day, I'll show you the stars,"_ he tells her when they're alone enjoying each's other companionship. There _isn't_ something between _yet_, but they're close enough. It feels nice, but she expects it to be _more_ in the future. For now, she's enjoying what she can get from the man she feels so much about.

He looks so passionate talking about the stars and constellations he knows that she can't but help but hear him in fascination. It's rare to this side of him, so she learns to cherish those moments. The archaeologist closes her eyes and lets his soothing voice watch over her. He tells her about Polaris the North Star, Sigma Octantis the South Star and Crux the Southern Cross, all of them motionless while the stars around them move in a never-ending dance.

He talks about Cassiopeia, Leo, Orion the Hunter and his dogs Canis Major and Canis Minor. He regales her with his tales of seeing the Aurora Borealis, which can be only be seen on the Winter Islands, when he was a boy. All of these things he tells her with utmost trust and she feels floored that he confides with her _**his**_ _knowledge_ of things.

An involuntary yawn escapes her and he chuckles in response. "Tired, are we Nico Robin?"

"Forgive me, I have not received proper rest," she keeps yawning. He yawns in response draping his arm around her bringing her close.

"Nah, don'tcha worry. 's okay. I kinda feel tha same. Those kids can pack a punch, but what can ya' do?" He shrugs, fixing his glasses giving her a lopsided grin.

She smiles back and simply rests her head on his chest. "Indeed, what can _we_ do?"

There's no vocal response. And she doesn't expect one either, because these kids are _his_ and _hers_. _Their_ children in all but blood and they both know it.

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R&R


	14. Alternus Universum II

Notes: The last drabble, my last chapter. I enjoyed it and it was the most fun two weeks I've had. A thank you to the wonderful public and I look forward to seeing you all around. I came back to one of my favorite themes. Can you blame me?

Plot: She falls for her pen pal.

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_Alternus Universum II_ (Alternate Universe)

It starts out as a mere assignment during one of her elective courses and as time passes it shapes her into the woman she becomes later on. Her peers sneer at her in disdain for her youth and at the time also critiques her choice for a pen pal. How could _she_, a psychology student, daughter of one of the brilliant minds in the Archaeology department, write to a mere _Italoamericani_ soldier? The mere thought of it is ludicrous. But she does not pay heed to their opinions as she has done in the past and continues writing.

Her pen pal is a fascinating man it turns out. Here mere opposite, she learns. They call him Francisco, though his name is Franklin Cuddie, and he's twenty two. He was born in America, but his soul and his life belongs to _mia Italia. _He has wavy electric blue hair and sky blue eyes. _'Genetics, what can you expect?'_ He writes her once. And she simply smiles in amusement.

He becomes a constant, her dearest friend and confidante, even though she's in Moscow and he's three thousand four hundred and twenty six point seven kilometers away on Iraq. She tells him things she'd never dare to tell a soul and he reciprocates the sentiment. They're two peas in pod, two wounded souls in search for something else, something deeper and she doesn't dare name.

It's four years later of exchanging letters back and forward with Frankie that she's ready to admit that maybe, perhaps she could have feelings for him. But she doesn't dare tell him. She's afraid that he won't feel the same, afraid that she could ruin their friendship. There are so many factors and probabilities that she doesn't dare think of them.

Her worse fears come true, however. He writes her curtly and briefly.

'_Mia cara ragazza rusa,_

_This is my last letter. The last one I write to you. There are so many things I want to tell you, but only one comes to mind. Grazie._

_Con amore,_

_Frankie_

And she reads and rereads with a numb feeling in her chest. Her vision blurs and she doesn't even notice that she is shedding tears for something she should've expected all along. What was she expecting? That he would feel something for her? That an _amerikanskiy_ would fall for her, a _russkiy_?

_Knock._

_Knock._

She hears consecutively. Her hand brushes away her tears. On auto pilot she stands up and decides to answer. The door opens. Robin feels light headed.

"_Sorpresa, mia ragazza russa."_

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R&R


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